


Let's See How Deep We Get

by Medvsa



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Bad Parenting, Eating Disorders, Gen, M/M, Multi, Running Away, Sad, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-05-28 18:06:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15054812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medvsa/pseuds/Medvsa
Summary: First fic, might be bad lolBasically Patrick is 17 and fed up with his parents and how they treat him and decides to run away. He ends up at an old friend's house and things get complicated.TW Eating Disorders and parent issues





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

It was 2 am and and Patrick Stump was standing in the damp grass outside his open bedroom window. His parents were sleeping peacefully just a few yards from his head. A wave of guilt rushed through him but he pushed it down, adjusting his baseball cap and pulling his denim jacket tighter around his body.  
He was trying to psyche himself up. He had snuck out a million times before this but this was different. This time he wouldn't be coming back and he didn't know how to feel about it.  
Maybe he should have been relieved. He had never gotten along terribly well with his parents and the tension was just getting higher and higher. They could barely go a day without arguing, and either he or his father usually ended up storming out of the house. His mom spent most evenings in tears, and he usually cried himself to sleep. Things hadn't been working for a long time.  
It was for the best.  
He took a deep breath and picked his backpack up off the ground, shouldering it and headed for the alley.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idk

Patrick was a few blocks away from his house when the familiar van rolled up next to him. He gruffly pulled open the passenger door and climbed in, buckling up just miliseconds before the van took off again.   
"Hey," Hayley said over the loud rock music pumping through the pear green vehicle. She looked over at the small form curled up on the leather seat. Patrick put his feet against the dashboard and dug around in his pocket until he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He nodded absentmindedly at Hayley. Concern sparked in her eyes and she peeled them off the road once again, turning the volume down a touch.   
"What's wrong?" She asked gently, bright hair falling over her shoulder as she turned to get a better look at him. He shrugged, taking a drag off his cigarette.   
"I don't know anymore." He mutters.  
They sit in silence, void of the Green Day song drifting quietly out of the speakers. Hayley begins tapping her fingers against the steering wheel, driving them down random alleys and roads. Finally she sighs.   
"Where am I taking you?"   
Patrick doesn't answer at first, finishing his cigarette. He closes the window and sits upright in the seat, fiddling with the fraying denim on the end of his sleeve.   
"Willis," He finally answers, gulping away the emotion threatening to spill into his mouth and pour out onto his lap.   
"Willis?!" Hayley nearly yells. She nearly stops, the van sputtering to a near halt before she regains composure and they continue to speed down a dirt road. She swallows and tried to hide her shock but the concern is still plastered all over her face.  
She turns off the radio.   
"Patrick that's almost two hours away."  
"I'll give you money for gas," He shrugs.   
"Well how long are we gonna be there? I have to work in the morning, yknow?" Irritation seeps into her voice and Patrick almost chuckles. She thinks he's coming back.   
"You won't need to stay," He reassures her, looking back out the passenger side window at the trees and river zooming past. "I won't be coming home."  
Hayley doesn't respond to this. She sits there silently, foot held steady on the gas and knuckles turning white from gripping the wheel too hard. When Patrick looks at his friend, he sees that she's got her jaw clenched. She looks tired and he feels bad for making her do this.   
"I don't know about this." She says simply after a few moments of silence. Her grip on the wheel hasn't loosened up at all and he can see her navy blue nails digging into the material, living little crescents.   
"Come on, please, Hayley?" He turned in his seat to face her desperation dripping off his words.   
"I don't know, Patrick!" Her eyes were wide now darting in between him and the road, "If someone saw us... I could be accused of kidnapping you."   
"I'll shoot my mom an email in a few days just please, please do this for me."   
They made eye contact for a few seconds. Patrick old feel tears in his throat and he swallowed them back down, jutting out his jaw. Hayley sighed.  
"Fine," She said quietly.   
"I'm gonna miss you," She added even more softly as an afterthought.   
"I'll keep in touch," He offered weakly, playing with his sleeves again. She offered him a small smile and turned the radio back up. Patrick pulled out another cigarette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me some feedback!


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick and Hayley driving

"Do you want to stop and get some food?"  
Patrick shakes his head, wrapping his arms around himself. They'd already been driving for almost an hour. It was 3:15 and Patrick was running low on cigarettes, smoking to keep from passing out. He wasn't necessarily tired, more bored than anything. The adrenaline was still giving him some extra energy but unfortunately was also making him restless.  
Hayley pulled into up next to a pump. She filled up the tank and grabbed a handful of bills from Patrick.  
"I'm getting some food. Are you sure you don't want anything?"  
They hadn't argued anymore after the first half hour but concern still glittered in her eyes. Patrick reached into his wallet and handed her another $10 bill.  
"Pack of Marbs," He answered simply. She shrugged and walked into the station, leaving Patrick alone with his thoughts and the Smashing Pumpkins CD that Hayley had been listening to.  
Patrick met Hayley a year ago. Obviously he had seen her around school before that, but she was 2 years older than him so they didn't talk much. His friend Jon started dating her a year and a half agao and Patrick was invited to third wheel on numerous occasions.  
When Jon moved to Nebraska with his family a few months ago, Patrick didn't stop hanging out with Hayley. Hayley, Natalie, and Damian became Patrick's family. They were there for him when no one else was. They helped him when his home life became unbearable and he wanted to give up.  
He was going to miss them.  
Hayley came back out and set the pack of smokes and one of those mini pizzas on Patrick's lap.  
"You're gonna want that," She said, tearing open a Snickers bar with her teeth and starting the van. Patrick gingerly sat the pizza on the dashboard and pulled out another cigarette.  
"So what are you planning on doing once you get to Willis?" Hayley asked around another bite of her Snickers bar.  
"I don't know..." Patrick mutters, "I have some friends who live there. I might crash with them for a while."  
"Patrick," She says, mouth empty this time, "Please take care of yourself,"  
"I will," I say, giving her a soft smile.  
There's a sign 50 yards ahead of us reading 'Welcome to Willis.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I know these are short chapters and it's moving really slowly. I'm out of my home state right now but I'll be going home in a few days.  
> Hopefully this will improve once I get home and have my laptop lol  
> Please leave me feedback!


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW (I think lol) for mentioned alcoholism, family problems, marijuana use, etc etc

"Drop me off here," Patrick said. He was still a block away from where he planned on ending up but this was good enough.   
Hayley looked around but stopped reluctantly, pulling over to the curb and unbuckling her seatbelt as well. Patrick was gathering up his stuff, shoving his cigarettes back into his pocket and passively ignoring the food that was still sitting on the dashboard. He was going to open the passenger door when Hayley grabbed his shoulder, turning him slightly to look her in the eye.   
"If you ever need anything, I'm just a text away." He nodded and she gestured slightly, pulling him in for a hug. "And if you ever need a place to stay, you always have a home in my house."   
He wiped at his eyes and nodded once again, climbing out of the van and trying to feel numb. Hayley stayed right there in her seat on the curb as he started walking away, disappearing down a dimly lit alley.   
Willis wasn't a huge city but it was bigger than home. No one slept here. It was loud and there were cars constantly lighting up the road ahead of him. He wasn't numb yet but he wasn't crying. He was kind of in some purgatory where it felt like nothing mattered and everything mattered all at the same time. He knew this was a turnpoint in his life but he was trying to ignore it to the best of his ability.   
He ended up on the back porch, digging his nails into his palms. He'd been standing there for a few minutes, trying to get up the nerve to knock on the chipped white door in front of him. The house looked exactly as it had the last time he had been there. You could barely tell that any years had passed or all the terrible things that had happened since. The lights were off but he knew that he was probably still awake inside. He wasted a few more minutes trying to imagine what sight would greet him if he just walked in unannounced. Would it still look the same? Would the arm chair still be positioned in the corner of the room, facing the television on the other side? Would there still be that baby blue, ancient sofa pushed up against the gigantic window? He could almost see him, sitting in that arm chair. He'd probably have a beer or two on the folding table next to it. He'd be watching some dumb talk show, maybe Dr. Phil or The View. He wouldn't be paying attention to it but it'd be on, maybe even muted. Or maybe he'd actually be asleep tonight, passed out on the couch under that black and orange afghan. His head would be positioned on the arm rest, his mouth probably open. He wondered if he was thinking of him.  
He finally knocked on the door after what felt like forever. Next he thought of Hayley, running from the possibilities of what was behind the door blooming in the front of his mind. Hayley was probably on her way out of town, or maybe meeting up with some old friends. She had old friends everywhere, she always seemed to know everyone. Patrick didn't think he'd ever met anyone who didn't have a Hayley story.   
There was a bang that came from inside the house, right behind the door. Patrick flinched, his consciousness being slammed back into reality just as quickly as the door flew open. Behind it stood a sight for sore eyes.   
"Patrick?" Pete rubbed his eyes, which looked bloodshot. He was shirtless, wearing just a pair of light blue flannel pajama pants. His dark hair was ruffled into an almost matted mess. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week, and from the rings under his eyes Patrick's assumption was probably correct. He smelled like stale beer and fresh pot, with a few cigarettes thrown into the mix. It wasn't a gross smell, it had undertones of cheap cologne. He smelled almost exactly like Patrick remembered him.   
"Pete- hi," Patrick stuttered uselessly, his mouth suddenly feeling intensely dry. He wished he would have asked Hayley to grab him something to drink. He licked his lips and rounded up the little bit of courage he could find in his suddenly very empty brain, "Um. Can I, y'know, come in?" He shivered slightly, just now starting to feel the chill of the air outside. Pete noticed and his eyes widened, backing up very quickly and holding the door open.   
"Uh, yeah, come on." He ran a hand through his greasy hair.   
Patrick stepped in tentatively, remembering at the last minute to unlace his boots and kick them off by the door out of politeness. The kitchen was almost spotless, void of the few dishes he saw resting in the sink. There was an empty case of beer resting next to the trash can and a few empty cans perched on the yellow tiled counter. Pete led him into the living room.   
"Sorry, it's a little messy. I'd have cleaned up but-" He trailed off. Patrick smiled softly at the state of the room. It was hardly a mess.   
He was right though. It did look just like he knew it would. All the furniture was exactly where it'd been before. The afghan was folded at the end of the couch, so Pete probably hadn't been sleeping. The chair was still in the corner but the TV was playing a movie Patrick had never seen before. Probably a Netflix Original, it looked slightly low-budget but interesting nonetheless. Patrick sat on the edge of the couch, leaving his backpack on. He felt out of place, which was crazy to him since this had practically been his home for so long. That was a few years ago, though. No matter how familiar it looked, it still had that air of foriegnity that left him feeling nostalgic and empty.   
"Can I get you anything?" Pete asked, his voice slightly hoarse. He stood in the doorway, glancing into the kitchen, "I don't have much but I have some beer and probably a frozen pizza. I have eggs, do you like eggs? Oh, I have those frozen juice things that you thaw and put in a pitcher. Grape, I think, do you like grape?" He was rambling, he did that when he was nervous.   
"Oh, no I'm good." Patrick said, waving his hand absently. "Thanks, though." He added as an afterthought. Pete nodded and sat down in his armchair, taking a sip of his beer.   
"So..." He started, turning the volume down on the TV, "What's up?"   
The question held more weight than one would think. It sounded so casual how Pete had said it but they both knew all the unasked questions hidden behind it. Questions about why Patrick's family had left town so quickly, about what happened when he moved, where he moved to, why he didn't stay in contact, why he was showing up in the middle of the night after all these years. Pete wasn't the only one with questions, though. Patrick was curious about some stuff too, like why he was here all alone and why his drinking had gotten so bad.   
"I need a place to stay," Patrick decided to cut to the chase and just be blunt with him. Pete nodded and took another swig of his beer.   
"Alright." He said, digging around on his table for a second and finding a joint and a lighter.   
"Really?" Patrick asked, not quite expecting Pete to be so accepting after everything they'd been through.   
"Sure. Why not?" He asked, blowing out a cloud of marijuana smoke. He offered the joint to Patrick who took it and dug his lighter out of his pocket. "I do have a few questions and a few rules, though."  
"Shoot," Patrick said, taking a hit.   
"First of all, do your parents know where you are?"   
"No."   
Pete sighed, rubbing his forehead before grabbing the joint back, "Christ. Okay, whatever. You turn 18 in like a month anyway, right?"   
Patrick nodded and reached for the joint, taking another hit. He was already feeling it.   
"Okay good. Next, why are you here? What happened? Did they hit you?"   
"No. I was just fed up. I can't live there anymore, Pete. We weren't good for each other."   
"I feel you. Alright. So what's going on with you? How long do you need to stay?"   
"I don't know that yet," Patrick mumbled, taking off his hat and running a hand through his quickly thinning hair. It had been falling out recently, which was worrying, but he could deal with it.   
"Alright, that's fine. My door's always open. Do you have a plan though?"   
"I mean... Kinda?" He said, putting his hat back on and adjusting his glasses, "I'll probably hang low here for a few days. I plan on shooting my mom an email or something so she doesn't file a missing person's report. I think she'll understand... Things have been rough for quite a while. I wanna get a job, I'll help you pay rent and buy food and whatever. I'm not asking to freeload or anything. I just can't live there anymore."   
"Okay. We can go over the details in the morning. You can sleep in Taylor's old bedroom, it's all set up and has been empty for quite a while." He sounded sad and Patrick's head shot up. He bit back another question and nodded. Pete stubbed out the almost nonexistent joint in the ash tray on his table and stood up.   
"I'm going to bed. It's been a long night, probably even longer for you. I might be at work when you wake up, you can just chill here. Feel free to grab a beer, maybe don't touch my pot though. I'll be back a little after noon."   
Patrick nodded once again and followed Pete down the hallway, turning into the door across from Pete's room to once again be bombarded by memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry I know it's been a while. I'm home now though, and back with a longer chapter.   
> (Sorry for any spelling errors or anything, I'm slightly tipsy lol but I really wanted to work on this)


End file.
